


Mistakes Were Made (Then Fixed Then Made Again)

by Zuri_of_Vesuvia



Series: Asra Has A Book Of Sex Magic [2]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Accidental Bondage, Anal, Aphrodisiacs, Blood Magic, Bruises, Choking, Dubious Consent, Edgeplay, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multiple Penetration, Orgasm Denial, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, Sex Magic, Sexual Fantasy, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Urethral Play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-22 18:40:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19968013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zuri_of_Vesuvia/pseuds/Zuri_of_Vesuvia
Summary: Dabbling in blood magic can be a dangerous thing. After all, blood is a powerful catalyst, just like sweat, tears, bone and flesh... But what about other substances?Just a little experiment, to see what can be imparted through substance manipulation, Asra had told himself.Oh, how wrong he would be.





	Mistakes Were Made (Then Fixed Then Made Again)

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written dub-con before, or even been that into it honestly, but something about this idea just wouldn't leave me alone, so here we are!

If Julian were to say "You can do this" to himself one more time, he was sure it would summon some form of ghost from the magician's shop that he was currently trying to work up the courage to enter. Asra had given him a key and told him to use it but- but what did that mean, exactly?  _ When _ could he use it? In emergencies or just to drop by? During the day or at night? When Asra was home or when he wasn't? There were far too many variables around the little piece of metal that sat far too heavy in his hand.

A glance to the windows said that the shop was closed for the day and nobody was inside, or perhaps Asra had gone to sleep. Or perhaps he was in that back room working on some more of that foolish, dangerous witchcraft he seemed to be fixated on. Had he used too much blood? Was he lying unconscious on the floor? Had he sold his soul to some demon or the like? Why did Asra have so many questions attached to him, it was driving Julian mad. So mad, in fact, that he had begun to pace like a caged animal from window to door, muttering to himself as he did when attempting to solve a particularly complicated medical case. Trying to understand Asra wasn't too far off.

One last step put him back under the shop's entryway. Now or never. Asra was just a man. A magical and confident and… rather attractive man. That's all. Nothing to worry about. Julian told himself that in a mumble and slid the key into the lock with a surprisingly fluid motion. Another small surprise was that the key actually worked - he'd been half expecting Asra to give him a dud. The little flutter of hope as he pushed the door inwards and heard the bell was rather dangerous, it almost felt  _ natural _ to be coming in this way instead of the window or the back entrance. He could get used to this, should Asra want to keep him around. A very dangerous hope indeed.

Not too dangerous for the moment, though, as the man himself was nowhere to be found. A few candles burned on the counter, which Julian fought the urge to extinguish. Further investigation into the back room yielded much the same, along with a thick book that lay closed and menacing in the corner of the sofa. Julian wasn't quite sure why he called it menacing, but it certainly was; a black, worn cover and pages that were edged with all manner of substances from years of use. It felt far too much like a medical book, though thankfully not one of his. A part of him was relieved that Asra seemed to be finally taking the plague seriously, but it also made him worry; Asra didn't know the human body like a doctor would and Julian was a firm believer that magic and medical science should never be combined. It could cause something dangerous, something irreversible, something-

Something worthy of the soft, muffled cry that filtered down the staircase and sent icy-hot fingertips crawling up Julian's spine. He didn't want to admit how he knew without a doubt that it belonged to Asra, or how it made his stomach attempt to turn itself inside out for several reasons, some of which will never venture beyond his thoughts. One of the ones he  _ would _ admit to, however, was worry, so he chose to focus on that and ignore said other unsaid reasons.

"What's he gotten himself into now?" He muttered, if only to keep himself calm and breathing as he ventured upstairs, his gait an awkward pace between a stride and some sort of tiptoe, because he didn't want to disturb anything, but also what if Asra needed a disturbance? What if he needed someone there quickly?

Another sound made him pause at the door. It was still a cry, technically, but it was less of what you'd hear from the Count's torture chamber and more of what you'd hear from, well, another type of torture chamber. At least in Julian's case. Maybe Asra's, too, apparently, seeing as the next sound was definitely a sort of gargling yelp of pain. Julian felt as if he was being torn in two by anxiety - the need to get in there and help because something obviously wasn't right, but what if it was completely alright and he would ruin something?

His hand somehow made its way to the door handle, gloved fingers dancing over the brass knob like it would burn him if he were any less gentle. Ridiculous. A hiss from the other side of the wood made him flinch, but his reflexes grabbed the handle anyway. Right. Good. He paused to listen before taking the plunge, not sure if that was a good or bad decision when heat prickled his cheeks. Squelching. Coughing. A wet slap. Nails on the floorboard. Another definitely-not-in-pleasure groan. A desperate gasp for air.

Right. That doesn't sound good. Opening the door it is, then.

Julian thought he was prepared for any scene that might be on the other side. He was very,  _ very _ wrong. In fact, it would be easier to list the parts that he  _ was _ prepared for. Like Asra being naked. Or, well, if having your clothes in such tatters that they show more than they cover counts as naked. That reasoning, however, was something Julian was not expecting, as well as what had apparently caused the destruction - which can only be described as  _ a mass of giant, writhing tentacles that emerged from a clay jar _ .

They held Asra firmly on his knees and it was abruptly clear why he was making those noises; muffled not from a pillow but from a tentacle down his throat just short of gagging him. Tears mixed with saliva and slime as they slid down his face, the latter dripping from the corners of his stretched mouth, glazing his chin. His eyes were squeezed shut, brows furrowed in a way that must have been painful, though it likely paled in comparison to the way his body was being held by the, uh, appendages? Could they be called that? Either way, they were dextrous and unrelenting in their restraint; keeping Asra's hands above his head, squeezed by the wrists hard enough to bruise and putting his sweaty, glistening form on full show. The blossoming patterns of red and purple down his arms matched similar welts and rings on his chest, neck and thighs, the latter still being restrained and held apart as-

As one of the tentacles thrust enthusiastically in and out of his ass.

Julian couldn't help biting his lip, his own thighs subconsciously pressing together.  _ This is really not the time _ , he told himself,  _ not the time for your strange fantasies _ . There must have been something in the air, like last time, something that made his knees weak and his blood run south. How else would Asra end up in this position if not for some form of mind altering substance?  _ Surely _ he wouldn't be so depraved as to experiment with sex magic. Would he? Julian mentally chided himself for even having that thought, let alone the fact that he found it somewhat enticing, the fact that as he watched Asra be turned into a human-tentacle kebab, it wasn't just the magicians toned body or stiff, leaking cock that made his own strain against his pants.  _ Bad Julian. Not the time. _

He spent so long standing in the doorway and dithering with his own morals, that he only noticed the approach of a wayward tentacle when it attempted to wrap around his ankle.

Caught completely off guard, Julian hop-stumbled ever so gracefully into the room with a yelp, which not only drew the attention of a few other tendrils, but also their apparent victim.

Asra squinted at him through tears, brows shooting up to emote what the rest of his face couldn't. He was several shades of red, lips and eyes puffy, cheeks and chin positively glistening. Julian couldn't help but admit that the sight was just  _ gorgeous _ . It didn't help matters when Asra pulled weakly at the tentacles restraining his arms, attempting to squirm away from the one gagging him, only to have a very loud, lewd shriek forced out around it as the one up his ass gave a particularly hard twist. He writhed like an eel, his hips jerking of their own accord, cock bobbing with each movement, every muscle tensed and shaking. His hair clung to his forehead and neck in sweaty curls that Julian wanted to push back and run his hands through.

_ This really shouldn't be so arousing _ . Julian felt awful, terrible -  _ mortified _ when he realised that his body's feelings on the situation would be clear as day from just a glance. It wasn't even that he wanted to watch or touch - if anything, he wanted the situation reversed-

_ No, stop, focus. _ Right. Focus. He was a doctor, he could do that - assess the situation and act accordingly regardless of his own, er,  _ feelings _ on the matter. He shook his head and cleared his throat.

Okay, whatever Asra's initial plan was, it clearly went a little off the rails; there's no way he would let something like this happen and, well, either he's a very good actor or it was genuine distress that Julian caught a flash of in his eyes. He could ask all the questions and make all the apologies he wanted later; right now, he needed to fix whatever this was.

Three tentacles reached for him and he debated letting them have their way, using himself as a distraction so that Asra could escape (or just to see what they would do, to feel them torment him so, with the ruthless, base urges that no sentient being could provide-) but it was such a long internal debate that the decision was made for him; the tentacle's the second attempt at securing Julian by the ankle proving successful. He swallowed thickly, glancing to Asra to see if it made a difference. Surprisingly, he noticed that upon finding itself busy with him, whatever manner of beast Asra had conjured seemed to lose interest in its prey ever so slightly; the tentacle that had been in Asra's throat retreating to simply poke around his mouth.

Alright, this could work.

He took a step with his non-bound foot, reaching towards Asra with relative ease - for once, a use for his ridiculously long limbs! - to grab the tentacle in his mouth. It's reaction was immediate; pulling itself from between Asra's lips with a 'pop' to begin investigating the new presence in the room. Asra gasped sharply, then began to cough until he gagged and retched, clear liquid dripping from his slack-jawed mouth as his head was finally allowed to hang low. Julian could see why he had been struggling so much; the, uh,  _ thing _ , was sticky and slick at the same time, trails of spit and goo still hanging between its glossy, black surface and Asra's face. It was almost like a giant leech, but (thankfully) without the teeth.

Julian had never felt such a potent mixture of disgust and intrigue in his life, and he doubted he ever would again after today.

Finally tearing his eyes away from Asra, he watched the squirming appendage as it covered every part of his gloved hand and sleeve with its residue. It seemed to have some sort of… suction, or perhaps whatever it produced was just sticky enough to lift fabric and tear it. Or try to tear it, at least, since apparently some leather was all it took to stop it's ravenous advances. Julian was almost disappointed - and the beast seemed to be, too, beginning to retreat back towards Asra. In a panic, Julian knelt down and tore the glove off his other hand with his teeth.

Asra dragged his head up in time to rasp the beginning of a warning, but Julian was already drawing attention back to himself, caressing the tentacle with his bare palm. It's surface was as unpleasant as he'd imagined, but he couldn't stop running his fingers through the layer of slime that lay on top, feeling warm, muscular tissue working underneath.

"Aren't you a curious creature," he mumbled, transfixed on the way it explored his skin.

Heat blossomed everywhere it touched, a sort of pulse working against his own heartbeat. Oohhhh, he could see why Asra had wanted to try this - and if it hadn't been intentional, he so hoped the magician would remember how he did it.

He shivered when the tip of the tentacle slid under the sleeve of his coat. "You want to explore, hmm?"

"I-Ilya, don't-" Asra interrupted himself with another coughing fit. Julian couldn't tell if his voice was simply quiet or if his fixation was distancing it.

"You needn't worry," he replied on instinct. If anyone could deal with a randy mass of tentacles, it was him. "Experimenting on myself is my forte."

Asra kept mumbling, but Julian didn't hear what he was saying. Another shudder ran through him as the tentacle around his ankle found its way into his boot, tugging at his trousers. There was definitely an aphrodisiac substance at work, he could feel it in the pleasant buzz that spread across his skin, seeping into his limbs to keep him still and pliant.

It wasn't quite enough, though. Not a perfected serum, like the ones sold on the red market. After a few moments, his body adjusted and his senses came back to him, along with an acute sense of pain where the tentacle had begun to squeeze his wrist. At least this wouldn't be the first time he and Asra would have matching bruises.

Now able to meet Asra's eyes, the panic he saw in them snapped Julian even further out of his haze - Asra's pupils were so wide you could barely see the beautiful lavender that usually rimmed them, but even with his dozy, fluttering lashes, there was an urgency that pushed through, begging for help.

Oh, right, he was supposed to help.

"What is it?" He asked, trying not to flinch when the tentacle's grip on his wrist tightened and the other started creeping up his leg.

Even with his lips swollen and obviously sore, Asra managed a smirk. "A mistake."

The magician snorted, then immediately gritted his teeth as the tentacles retaliated against his remark; pulling his legs further apart and- how had Julian not noticed the one that constricted at the base of his cock? It pumped him twice, then squeezed to stop his climax, drawing out a guttural moan of frustration that, much to Julian's dismay, went straight to his own dick.

He swallowed, his mouth watering yet awfully dry at the same time. "W-what, um, should… I uh..." His tongue refused to work properly, the words eventually melting into a groan. He couldn't even blame it on the tentacles or the aphrodisiac.  _ Dirty. Filthy. The worst doctor. 69 really does suit me _ .

He watched transfixed as the tentacle coaxed more precum from the head of Asra's length; trying to wring him dry from the looks of the existing puddle underneath him on the floor. Julian absently felt something wet and writhing circle around his thigh, poking into pockets and around buttons. It was looking to do the same to him - and a considerable part of him was rather against the notion of complaining.

Julian knew he should do something,  _ anything _ , but that was easier said than done, especially in such a… unique and er,  _ distracting _ , situation. His curiosity was getting the better of him. He had to know what this thing wanted, but it was keeping him too docile to save Asra from being the test subject; the tentacle lengthening and thinning out as it snaked its way up his shaft. Julian's pulse quickened, thrumming in every part of his body. He had an inkling as to what would happen - knew it was something taboo and wrong to most - but when the tip of the tentacle slid over the head and into the slit, his breath caught in his throat.

Asra's hips jerked, his head thrown back as he let out a hoarse cry. Thankfully, it was enough to break Julian from his trance. Again. Damn, he needed to stop letting the monster  _ do that _ .

"Ily- Ilya _ , please _ ." Asra was practically sobbing, a sound that was completely alien to Julian's ears.

He snapped to attention, shifting his weight to dissuade the wandering appendage by his groin. "What should I do?" He hadn't realised how much he was panting until he used up all his air in just four words.

" _ Hands _ ," Asra growled, clawing at the air.

_ Free his hands, right, understood. _ With a steadying breath, Julian tugged off his other glove and reached up to the tentacles holding Asra's wrists. It took a little encouragement - some pokes and prods and caresses with a now-sweaty palm - but soon Asra was being released and Julian was taking his place. He had three of his four limbs covered in slime and held by an unnaturally strong magical appendage.

Not a terrible way to spend an evening.

The moment Asra was free, he slumped onto all fours. His arms shook violently with the effort of holding him up; no doubt half numb and painfully tired. He panted, wheezing for a moment, then his head shot up, some of the haze clearing from his eyes.

"Here," he weakly pawed at Julian's coat. "N-n-nu _ uuh _ hn, need, need you _ uu _ \- your help." His body jerked as he tried to talk, each movement punctuated by a subdued whine.

How he was still semi-coherent with a tentacle inside his ass  _ and _ his cock, Julian would never know. Regardless, he shuffled as close as he could, until a sudden tug on his arms made him collide with Asra's chest. A racing heart beat hard under his ear, lungs crackling with each breath - that wasn't good, what if he inhaled some of the slime? Julian tried to listen, but his diagnosis was cut short when Asra's scrabbling hands dragged him up so they were face-to-face and kissed him - messy and frantic and biting his lip until it bled,  _ oh _ it was just absolute  _ bliss _ . He tasted spice and herbs amongst the familiar metallic tang, something floral and something that reminded him of home for reasons Mazelinka would be ashamed of him for.

The smell of sweat and sex clouded any rational thoughts. Asra's body burned hot against his own, even through clothes, pouring fire into his mouth with each breath, nails like claws on his neck and in his hair. He wasn't sure what this would accomplish, but he also couldn't really find a reason to care in that particular moment.

He didn't even notice that it was magic making his hair stand on end.

The tentacles fought against whatever spell Asra was attempting to conjure, thrusting into his ass so hard that their teeth clacked together, the kiss turning into more of just panting and moaning into each others mouths. Not that Julian was going to complain. His own tentacular companions found their way up his undershirt, giving his torso the same slicking-up treatment they had given Asra. It made him shiver and groan and thrust his hips at the air. He wanted so badly to touch Asra in return, but the tentacles kept his arms at bay - it's as if they were made for torture, intentionally or not.

Another harsh bite to his lower lip, splitting it open for Asra to lap at like an animal, his clever tongue finding every last drop of blood that seeped out. Even Julian could feel the magic in the air now; it was electric, a buzz that hummed in his very bones, getting stronger with each bite or suck, each time Asra pulled his hair or grunted against his lips. Perhaps all this blood magic malarky wasn't so bad after all. If it meant Asra would be like  _ this _ , Julian could very much learn to live with it. He'd be Asra's blood slave if he wanted. He'd submit himself to tests and experiments and being fucked by magical, sentient vines until he passed out, so long as it meant Asra would have him, even just every now and then.

Asra's breathing had been getting shallow, more wheezing, more desperate, until he choked on air and was abruptly dragged back. Julian whined at the loss, tried to follow him, then whined even more, squirming, when the tentacles held them both firmly in place. One had found its way to Asra's throat, wrapped twice around and squeezing. Julian knew how to choke, how to make someone pass out with just a single thumb under their jaw - he instructed in it, even, when he wanted it so badly he was willing to explicitly tell someone how to choke him properly - but the tentacle had none of the delicacy, none of the precision. It cut off Asra's air, pushed hard against his windpipe until his lips turned just the most  _ enticing _ shade of purple and his eyes fluttered closed.

Julian knew he should be worried, should be trying to help, but the strained little noises Asra made were just too much - and what could  _ he _ do, anyway? He was already tied up, literally, and completely useless when it came to magic. All he could do was whimper as his brain tried to fight arousal with concern and vice versa.

The next thing Julian remembered, was a flash of light and the most ungodly shriek. It left his ears ringing, vision blurred and brain rattling in his skull. He could feel the tentacles reel back as if being shocked, letting out those terrible, piercing wails as they retreated. Julian blinked his eyes back into focus just in time to see the last black, slick tendril dive into the clay pot on the floor, pulling the lid on behind it.

Three rapid heartbeats passed, the room silent except for their gasping breaths, and then the exhausted, spent magician collapsed against his chest.


End file.
